


The Professional

by SinnamonSpider



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Can be read as gen, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff and Angst, Gen, M/M, Post-Episode: s14e12 Prophet and Loss, Sharing a Bed, but definitely intended to be more J2, cause there's nothing explicit, inspired by J2's story from Nashcon19
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 15:58:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18076457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinnamonSpider/pseuds/SinnamonSpider
Summary: Jensen’s voice, low and soft, with a heavy edge of concern, filtered down the hall. His boots thudded gently on the hardwood. “You here?”He should answer, he knew; should call out and let his friend know that he was home, that he was safe, that he wasn’t any of the awful things that had to be swirling through Jensen’s mind.





	The Professional

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever J2 RPF work, y'all. It's inspired by J2's story of Jared's difficulty filming the hug scene from 14x12 as told at this weekend's Nashcon19 - it was such a sad and beautiful story, I just had to get this out. 
> 
> Standard disclaimers apply. Feedback is always appreciated.

The silence that had fallen over the apartment, once Jared’s shuddering, chest-deep gasps had died away, was broken by the sound of a key turning in the lock. 

“Jare?”

Jensen’s voice, low and soft, with a heavy edge of concern, filtered down the hall. His boots thudded gently on the hardwood. “You here?”

He should answer, he knew; should call out and let his friend know that he was home, that he was safe, that he wasn’t any of the awful things that had to be swirling through Jensen’s mind. But Jensen’s footsteps were coming closer, toward his bedroom, and Jared didn’t trust his voice not to betray him, so he stayed quiet.

A soft knocking at the door, and then the click and turn of the knob. Light spilled into the room through the small crack, hitting him right in puffy, cried-out eyes, but he just squinted them mostly shut, so as to not lose sight of the silhouette hovering in the door. “Jared?”

“Yeah.” As expected, his voice cracked painfully, thick and stuffy-sounding. 

Jensen’s relieved rush of breath wasn’t quite smothered by the door closing or his boots on the floor as he moved toward the bed. Another wave of shame, this time for making his best friend worry about his safety, rose up viciously. He should have texted, should have answered one of the many calls, phone lighting up again and again with Jensen’s perfect face, but he’d been too worn down, too emotional. 

And here it was, nearly five in the morning, and Jensen had come to see him. They’d only wrapped at three-thirty; Jared had made it home just after four, and his condo was a bit closer to set than Jensen’s. He knew Jensen had to be back at work for eleven, while his own call time wasn’t until three. 

Joints cracked as Jensen moved to sit down next to the bed, resting his back against the frame with a weary sigh. “You didn’t pick up.” 

“I know,” Jared replied, still sounding like he had a three week head cold. “Sorry.”

“S’okay,” Jensen said. “Long as you’re okay.” 

“You should be sleeping,” he muttered, trying to change the subject. “Got an early call.” 

Jensen shifted on the floor and even though his features were lost in the darkness, Jared knew he was looking right at him. “You’re more important.” 

“Jen…”

“Jare,” came the gravel-low reply. “Think I’d be able to sleep? You not pickin’ up, no text, no nothin’?” Jensen’s accent, like his own, slipped out a little easier when he was tired - or drunk. “I’d just be wearin’ lines in the carpet at home. Made more sense to come here.” 

He buried his face in the pillow, trying to escape the weight of love and concern he could feel on him, even without seeing it. “I’m sorry,” he said again, muffled, useless lame words that sounded more stupid the more he said them. 

A big, broad hand came down to stroke over his hair, thick fingers sinking familiarly through the strands, and Jared felt his throat closing. “Don’t gotta be sorry with me, man. Y’know that.” 

“I - ” something twisted in his chest, something he thought he’d cried out, and his words choked off in an ugly gasp. 

The hand on his head moved, thumb slipping down to rub gently at the stubble at the edge of his jaw, where the rest of his face was mashed into the pillow. “Oh, Jay,” Jensen said softly, his own voice suspiciously thick. “Just a bad day, but it’s over now. It’s over, and you did it, and we got the shot, and it’s gonna be amazing. You’re always amazing.” 

He tried desperately to get himself under control, but the sobs just kept tearing from deep within his body. Jensen’s hand smoothed along the side of his face, rubbing comfortingly at his temple, his earlobe, wherever he could reach. 

Minutes ticked by, and Jared’s sobs had once more reduced themselves to hiccups. Jensen’s fingers trailed back to his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp for a few seconds before patting gently. “You good?”

“Guess so,” Jared muttered into the damp pillow. 

Jensen’s hand withdrew and Jared ached at the loss of contact. “Right,” Jensen said decisively, somewhere higher above Jared - he must have stood up. 

The next sound he heard was the twin thumps of boots being tugged off, and then the buzz of a zipper. Soft sounds of clothing rustling, and then - 

“Budge up,” Jensen ordered, tugging at the covers. Bemused, Jared scooted over, making room as Jensen, dressed only in a soft henley, slid into the bed. “Take your soggy-ass pillow with you.” 

A smile tugged at Jared’s lips despite himself, as he dragged the wet pillow toward him, swapping it with the dry one from the other side of the bed. Jensen settled in, curling his big warm body firmly around Jared, and they’d shared beds before, but not like this. Jared tensed in his friend’s grip, until Jensen poked him in the ribs. “Relax. Time for sleep.” He nosed softly into Jared’s neck and the ticklish touch, intimate and oddly familiar, sent a shiver rolling through him. 

“If Trish gives me shit for the dark circles under my eyes tomorrow, I’m passing it on to you,” Jensen threatened. “Rolls downhill, y’know?” 

Jared snorted wetly. “Deal.” He brought his hand up to encircle Jensen’s wrist, where his arm curved around Jared’s waist. “Like you ever look anything but perfect.” 

Jared felt Jensen’s answering smirk against his neck. “G’night, Jay.”

Emotion rose in Jared’s throat for what seemed like the hundredth time that night, but for a completely different reason. “Night, Jen.”


End file.
